


nocturne no.20 in c sharp minor

by playedwright



Series: lovers at an exhibition [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Anal Sex, Bottom Richie Tozier, Emotional Sex, M/M, Musicians, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Top Eddie Kaspbrak, can either of them identify their feelings rn? no but we won't talk abt that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25690234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playedwright/pseuds/playedwright
Summary: There are about a thousand things that Eddie can think of to say in this moment to start speeding this process along, but the second that he breaks their kiss and cradles Richie’s face in his hand, he has to take a moment to pause. Richie looks down at him, breathless and wide-eyed and beautiful as ever, and all Eddie can think about is the moment they shared in the dressing room. The gentle way that Richie had kissed him, the way Richie had pressed their foreheads together afterwards. The gentle way that he had rubbed his thumb against Eddie’s knuckles.It had felt like something. It had meant something. And it had meant something too, after the show, when Richie’s hand had caught Eddie’s as Eddie walked by him in the hallway. When he’d looked up at Eddie with vulnerable, handsome eyes, and murmured,want to take me home tonight?So instead of any of the other things Eddie could say at this moment, the thing that Eddie says is, “Let me take care of you.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: lovers at an exhibition [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849177
Comments: 16
Kudos: 236





	nocturne no.20 in c sharp minor

**Author's Note:**

> another fic set in the smau universe written by me and [scams](https://twitter.com/chernobrough) called [lover's at an exhibition](https://twitter.com/LoversAE_AU), an au where losers and co. play in the derry philharmonic orchestra.
> 
> this bit occurs during movement 2 right before update 258
> 
> :)

The air feels electrified when Richie and Eddie step inside the apartment.

Eddie tugs the door shut behind him and takes a moment to turn around and lock it. His heart is pounding in his chest. He allows himself just a moment to take a deep breath, to close his eyes and try to calm the neurons firing throughout his entire body.

But then Richie is pressing up behind him and sliding his hands across Eddie’s chest. Richie presses his nose to the spot where Eddie’s neck meets his shoulder, and he takes a breath that he accentuates with a gentle bite to the skin he finds there. Eddie melts into it. He tilts his head until it’s resting against Richie’s and sucks in his own sharp breath when Richie finds another tender spot to bite, most likely the same spot where he’s left an old mark that he freshens up now. His hands on Eddie’s chest and stomach feel like fire; wandering at first, but then settling and pressing into the muscle, keeping Eddie in place.

“Been thinking about this,” Richie murmurs, and he drags his teeth up the curve of Eddie’s neck and presses a soft kiss to the shell of Eddie’s ear.

“Kissing me?” Eddie asks breathlessly. He reaches up and covers Richie’s hand with his own, twining their fingers together as best as he can.

Richie hums and shifts forward so he can brush his lips across Eddie’s cheekbone, maddeningly slow. “Fucking you again,” he corrects. Eddie has to squeeze his eyes shut to try and slow the way heat flushes through his veins. “Well. To be honest, I think about you fucking me.”

Eddie lets out a startled gasp. “You think about that?”

“Yeah,” Richie admits.

It’s the last bit of convincing Eddie needed. He twists from where Richie has him almost pinned, turning so he can grab a handful of Richie’s t-shirt and turning enough that when he tugs Richie down, their mouths slot together in an easy kiss. It’s overwhelming how easy it is to kiss Richie now. How intimately Eddie knows the things that make Richie tick. He knows it drives Richie wild when Eddie initiates the kiss but won’t let it deepen, so when the tip of Richie’s tongue presses against the seam of Eddie’s lips, Eddie pulls back.

Richie lets out a petulant groan. Eddie’s laughing as he twines his hands in Richie’s hair and pulls him down for another kiss. He doesn’t tease Richie this time. When Richie sucks Eddie’s bottom lip between his teeth, Eddie lets the groan be drawn from him and lets out another breathless sound when Richie licks his way into Eddie’s mouth.

In a fit of bravery or insanity, Eddie snakes his hand between them and presses his palm to the front of Richie’s pants. He sucks Richie’s tongue into his mouth when Richie gasps against him. Richie’s not quite hard yet, but he presses against Eddie’s hand the same way he does when he’s fully there.

Eddie might be content to stand there all day and let Richie chart a map with his tongue, pleased by the needy sounds Richie makes every time he flexes his hand. He might be content to stand there all day teasing Richie to full hardness, doing nothing but pressing teasing kisses to Richie’s lips and tightening his hand every now and then. But Richie’s words are ringing in his ears, and if Eddie’s being honest, he’s been thinking about it too.

It is by far  _ not  _ the craziest thing Eddie’s ever thought of in relation to Richie Tozier, but at the moment, it is the most pressing.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you or not?” Eddie asks bluntly, breaking their kiss with a sloppy noise. Richie’s lips are shiny and swollen when Eddie looks down at them.

“Didn’t realize we were waiting on me,” Richie says, and the way his eyebrow quirks up is obnoxious and far too cocky for Eddie to feel acceptable, so he bears down on Richie’s crotch a little harder and twists his wrist. He’s rewarded by the way Richie grunts out his name and squeezes his eyes shut. His hips stutter forward, seeking out more contact. Eddie grins.

“I’m certainly not going to fuck you standing in the foyer of my house,” Eddie says. He raises his own eyebrow. “I have a bed, you know.”

Richie grins down at him wickedly. The sight of it sends blood rushing straight to Eddie’s dick. He’s barely got a second to wonder to himself what he’s gotten himself into before Richie says, “So you keep saying,” but then he’s pressing Eddie backwards against the door and kissing him with twice as much vigor as before.

Eddie arches up against him. Richie’s hard now, Eddie can feel the thickness of Richie’s erection pressing against his stomach. He’s tenting in his own pants, pressing his hips forward until he’s practically rutting against Richie’s thigh. Richie licks behind his teeth and sucks Eddie’s tongue into his mouth in one ungodly move, and Eddie’s moan is loud enough that it echoes through the whole house. He wraps his arms around Richie’s shoulders as best he can, pressing their bodies flush together.

“Richie,” Eddie gasps out. Richie chases his name falling from Eddie’s tongue with a kiss. Eddie’s dizzy with it, weak in the knees at the way he feels with his body engulfed like this. He scratches his nails against Richie’s back. “Richie, take me to bed.”

“Jesus Christ,” Richie groans. It’s all the warning Eddie gets before Richie wraps an arm underneath Eddie’s ass and lifts him up in one easy movement.

“Richie!” Eddie yelps, but he’s laughing by the time Richie has Eddie over his shoulder. He keeps one arm steady where it is, and with his free hand he pats Eddie’s ass like he’s making sure a load is secure. “Oh, you’re fucking dead for this.”

“I’d believe you if I couldn’t feel you laughing and also feel your dick poking my shoulder,” Richie says drly.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Eddie lies, and Richie laughs because he knows it.

It’s a whole different kind of rush, the way Richie easily navigates Eddie’s house and finds his way to the bedroom. It feels less frantic since they aren’t connected by a kiss. But it does something to Eddie, being manhandled like this, despite the fact that he’s the type of guy who normally likes to take control.

Richie is startlingly considerate when he dumps Eddie onto the bed, doing so as gently as he can before climbing onto the mattress himself and pressing Eddie down into it. It’s different, being kissed like this. There’s not an inch of Eddie’s body that isn’t covered by Richie. Eddie wraps a leg around Richie’s waist and arches up, pressing their hips together and drawing a breathless moan from both of them. Richie swallows whatever sound Eddie makes next with another frantic kiss as Eddie starts to fuck his hips in earnest. Eddie’s half certain he’s going to blow his load before he even gets his dick in Richie.

It’s that thought that finally gets Eddie out of his own head; that finally draws Eddie’s focus away from memorizing every breathy, heedy sound that Richie makes at each rock of Eddie’s hips. He has a goal, a purpose, a plan for tonight.

There are about a thousand things that Eddie can think of to say in this moment to start speeding this process along, but the second that he breaks their kiss and cradles Richie’s face in his hand, he has to take a moment to pause. Richie looks down at him, breathless and wide-eyed and beautiful as ever, and all Eddie can think about is the moment they shared in the dressing room. The gentle way that Richie had kissed him, in a way they’ve never kissed before. Eddie’s careful about not crossing a line, not wanting to take more than what Richie expects. Getting feelings complicates things. Not knowing if they are reciprocated makes it worse. But the dressing room. That kiss, and the way Richie had pressed their foreheads together, and the gentle way that he had rubbed his thumb against Eddie’s knuckles. It had felt like something. It had  _ meant  _ something. And it had meant something too, after the show, when Richie’s hand had caught Eddie’s as Eddie walked by him in the hallway. When he’d looked up at Eddie with vulnerable, handsome eyes, and murmured,  _ want to take me home tonight? _

So instead of any of the other things Eddie could say at this moment, the thing that Eddie says is, “Let me take care of you.”

Richie’s breath hitches. Eddie can feel the way his jaw works when he swallows underneath his fingertips. He holds Richie’s face in his hands a little tighter and says it again, firmly, “Rich. Let me take care of you.”

“God,” Richie breathes. “Yeah. Take me apart, Juilliard.”

Eddie uses the leverage he has and Richie’s surprise to his advantage, rolling them over on the bed until he’s on top of Richie and kissing him with intent. Richie becomes pliant under his touch. His legs spread, and Eddie slots down between them. It’s different, kissing Richie like this. Being the one to cover Richie’s body with his own. He can feel every miniscule shift of Richie’s body underneath him. Every twitch, every roll of his hips. Richie’s hands press against Eddie’s sides, pushing his shirt up and brushing his fingers against Eddie’s skin. It’s intoxicating, the heat of Richie’s hands on his skin, and Eddie wants  _ more. _

He sits up and pulls his shirt off in one easy movement. Richie makes a choked off sound underneath him. Both of their chests are heaving, out of breath. Richie reaches up and presses his palm flat to Eddie’s stomach.

“Well,” he breathes out. “That just isn’t fair.”

Eddie lets out a startled laugh. “What?”

“You’re shredded,” Richie says, mock-miserably. His finger runs along the edge of the top of Eddie’s abs. “This is so tragic. This is so sad for you.”

“Sad that I have abs?” Eddie asks incredulously. He can’t keep the laughter out of his voice.

Richie raises an eyebrow. “Oh, Eds, if you thought I was annoying before, I’m never gonna leave you alone now that I’ve seen you with your shirt off.” Eddie laughs again, shaking his head. “No, I’m serious. What kind of concertmaster looks like this? For god’s sake.”

“You complaining?” Eddie asks with a cocked eyebrow of his own.

“Does it feel like I’m complaining?” Richie responds, rocking his hips up and brushing his erection against Eddie’s. Eddie stutters out a breath. “We doing this, or…?”

For a moment, something swells in Eddie’s throat. Emotion so thick and tangible that he feels choked up by it. But he shakes it off and slides down until he can straddle Richie’s thighs, and he pops open the fly of Richie’s jeans.

“God,” Richie says. “I’m gonna die.”

“You’re so noisy during sex, did you know that?” Eddie asks. He puts his hands on Richie’s hips and eases them up so he can pull Richie’s pants off. He throws them somewhere in the room unceremoniously and grins when Richie laughs.

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” Richie answers. “There are a few ways to shut me up, though.”

Eddie looks at him incredulously as he starts sliding out of his own pants. “What the fuck are you talking about? Why would I want you to shut up?”

Richie’s smile is brilliant. Eddie wants to press his hand to it and memorize its curvature. “Alright, then,” Richie says easily. “But you’re gonna have to work a lot harder to keep me talking if that’s what you’re angling for here.”

“I think I can make that work,” Eddie tells him. He shifts down and presses another kiss to Richie’s waiting, eager mouth.

There’s a bottle of lube and condoms in Eddie’s bedside drawer, and it only takes a minute for Eddie to find the handle and pull the drawer open without breaking the kiss. Richie groans into his mouth when he figures out what Eddie’s doing, tugging Eddie’s lower lip between his teeth.

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs against Richie’s mouth. “Okay. Let me. Rich.”

There’s something about seeing Richie sprawled across his sheets that makes the breath catch in Eddie’s throat. For a moment he’s frozen, hovering above Richie with a bottle of lube in one hand, and he can’t stop  _ looking.  _ Richie’s long, big in nearly every way. More beautiful than Eddie can even wrap his head around. His t-shirt is pulled tight against his chest and rucked up just a little bit from where he settled into the mattress, enough to show off the tiniest bit of stomach and dark hair that continues below the elastic of his boxers.

Eddie has seen Richie’s dick before, but it strikes him suddenly that it’s different this time. That it’s  _ better  _ this time. He has a moment where he blinks to himself before he’s scrambling off the bed and towards the door.

“Eddie?” Richie calls out, propping himself up on one arm and looking confused and slightly hurt. Eddie’s stomach swoops. “Did I do something?”

“No!” Eddie says sharply. He can feel his whole body blush at the urgency in his own voice. “No, you’re. Christ, Richie, I mean, you’re perfect. I just. I want the lights on. Can I turn the lights on?”

Richie blinks at him, uncomprehending. Eddie’s heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat. Perhaps this is the line he wasn’t supposed to cross, the line that takes this from a quick fuck to something more, to something with  _ emotion,  _ and maybe he’s misread everything. Maybe that moment in the dressing room wasn’t anything more than what it appeared to be on the surface. Eddie’s always had a habit of reading into things in the worst way. But Richie surprises him again, with the way his mouth forms a perfect, surprised little  _ o  _ before he says, “You want to see me?”

Eddie lets out an impatient, needy noise. He resists the urge to stomp his foot like a child. He feels like this part should be obvious.  _ Of course  _ he wants the lights on.  _ Of course  _ he wants to see Richie. How was any part of that ever a question?

“You didn’t get a good enough look staring at me during my solo?” Richie asks.

“You were fully clothed then,” Eddie says sharply. “And honestly, no. It wasn’t a long enough look.”

“Jesus,” Richie breathes out. His hand tightens around Eddie’s bedsheet, gripping the fabric between his fingers. “Shit. Yeah, turn the lights on. Get back over here, Juilliard.”

Eddie sighs a breath of relief, and he flips the light switch back on before climbing back into the bed and covering Richie’s body with his own. There’s only a few thin layers between them, Richie’s t-shirt and both of their boxers, and it feels better than anything Eddie can ever remember. He’s eager now. His skin feels like it’s been stretched tightly over his entire body. And he wants  _ more,  _ and Richie writhes underneath him like he’s ready for it, too. So Eddie drops the bottle of lube on the bed next to Richie’s thigh then slides his hand underneath Richie’s boxers and cups Richie, unencumbered by fabric. Richie gasps into his mouth.

“That’s it,” Eddie says, breaking the kiss with the way he smiles. He pumps his hand up Richie’s dick once, twice, three times, relishing in the way it makes Richie writhe against him. When he lets go, Richie whimpers. “I know. I’m gonna take your boxers off now, yeah.”

“Yeah,” Richie breathes. His head falls back against the mattress and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Yeah, Eddie, please.”

Eddie slides Richie’s boxers off with practiced ease. He throws them somewhere without much ceremony, then tugs Richie up to pull his shirt off, too. Richie’s glasses are skewed as he settles back against the pillows, completely naked and utterly beautiful. Eddie reaches forward and starts to take them off.

“Wait,” Richie says. His hand grabs Eddie’s wrist to stop them.

“What?” Eddie asks.

Richie looks unsure of himself for a moment, but he steels himself and squares his shoulders and catches Eddie’s gaze. “I want to see you, too,” he says. “If you get to see me. I want to be able to see you.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, surprised. “Richie.”

“I want to see you,” Richie repeats.

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs. He fixes Richie’s glasses and presses his hand to Richie’s cheek. “Okay. You can see me.”

Richie is pliant, allowing Eddie to situate him the way he wants before rolling the lube between his hands to warm it up. He looks at Eddie expectedly. Richie’s eyes track the movement of Eddie’s hand. Eddie’s all too aware of all of Richie’s movements too. He wants to spend hours worshipping as many inches of Richie’s body as he can, but he knows the time doesn’t call for it tonight. Once he’s satisfied that the lube is warmed up, he nudges his knee until Richie’s legs fall open.

He’s in the middle of coating his first finger with lube when Richie says, “Need a tutorial? A how-to manual?”

“I think I’m good,” Eddie replies, not rising to Richie’s bait. It’ll rile him up more, Eddie thinks, which is rewarding for both of them. Richie cocks an eyebrow at him again, and Richie’s easy confidence sends blood flowing straight to Eddie’s dick.

“You sure about that?”

“Pretty sure,” Eddie says easily, and he presses a teasing finger to Richie’s rim. That’s all it takes to draw a sharp gasp out of Richie. When Eddie presses his finger in up to the knuckle, he’s rewarded by the way Richie’s back arches off the bed.

“Fuck, yes, fuck. Eddie,” Richie pants out. His hand smacks against the mattress. Eddie must be insane, or maybe possessed, but with his free hand he reaches out and twines their fingers together. Richie’s hand tightens around his when Eddie starts to pump his finger in and out.

“There you go,” Eddie reassures him. He picks up the pace when Richie’s breath starts to even out, grinning at the profanities that start to fall from Richie’s lips. He’s beautiful like this, needy even with just one finger fucking into him.

“Pick up the pace, Juilliard, we don’t have all night,” Richie murmurs against him, and he grins when Eddie laughs into his mouth.

“We kind of do,” Eddie points out. His chest swells at that. They have all night. Hell, maybe they have longer. Maybe if Eddie’s brave enough, they could have months of this. Richie kisses him again and Eddie wonders if he’s thinking the same thing.

He breaks the kiss so that he can lube up a second finger, and after working that into Richie for a moment and coaxing countless gasps and pet names out of Richie’s mouth, he works in a third finger. It would be easy to take Richie apart like this, to work him up and see him fall apart just by the way Eddie pumps his hand and spreads his fingers. It would be easy to press against that spot that makes Richie cry out so loud it echoes in Eddie’s ear, again and again, to curl his fingers and brush against Richie’s prostate until Richie’s come is webbing on his own chest. And Eddie thinks he could get off like this, too. Get off by watching Richie lose control, get off by grinding against Richie’s thigh, even still wearing his own boxers.

But it’s not what he wants. It’s not what either of them want. And if Eddie’s lucky, this won’t be the only time they do this, so the time for taking Richie apart like that can wait.

Eddie pulls his fingers out of Richie slowly, enjoying the way Richie’s breath stutters and whimpers at the loss. He presses his other hand soothingly to Richie’s belly.

“Do you think you’re ready?” he asks gently. It takes a moment for Richie to raise his head and look up at Eddie. He looks properly fucked out, pupils dilated wide even behind his glasses. Sweat coats his forehead. Eddie has the urge to kiss him again, just to see what he tastes like. Like he hasn’t had that taste memorized since the first time Richie kissed him.

“You gotta fuck me, man, I’m gonna die if you don’t,” Richie pants out. “Yeah, I’m. I’m ready.”

He helps Richie get situated in a way that won’t hurt either of their backs or knees. Eddie slides a pillow under Richie’s back and ass then reaches up and smoothes the hair off of his forehead. It’s surprisingly intimate in a way neither of them expect; Richie looks up at him and his eyes have questions that Eddie doesn’t know the answer to. Eddie kisses him so that he doesn’t have to.

Richie’s breathless by the time Eddie pulls away, and his dick twitches impatiently. Eddie huffs out a small laugh. He slides out of bed so that he can take his boxers off, leaving them on the ground to be dealt with by tomorrow-Eddie, then tears open the condom packaging with his teeth and rolls it on before climbing back into bed. He places his hands on Richie’s knees and rubs soothing circles there.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asks.

“I’m literally going to die, that was not a joke, I need your dick inside of me if I’m going to live,” Richie says seriously. And Eddie laughs again and trails his hand down Richie’s calf before hooking his fingers around Richie’s angle and tugging Richie’s leg up over his shoulder. Richie makes a punched-out sound. “Oh, Jesus. Shit. Okay.”

Eddie pauses. “Okay?” he repeats.   
  


“Yes,” Richie whines, He rocks his hips upwards impatiently. “Oh my god. It’s just. That was hot. Jesus, can you. Can you fuck me now? Please?”

“Such a way with words,” Eddie deadpans, but he lines himself up and eases in with a slow thrust of his hips. Richie gets out gasp after small gasp with every centimeter that Eddie pushes in. Eddie wants to swallow them all, wants to taste them with his tongue. He wants to know what else he can do to draw that noise from Richie’s mouth. When he bottoms out, they’re both breathless and panting for breath.

Richie is tight around him in a way that makes Eddie wonder if he’s going to last very long at all. Hot and tight and perfect. When Eddie miniscully moves his hips, small circles just to help Richie adjust, he’s met with the unbelievable way that Richie clenches around him. It draws a startled, punched-out, porn-star sound from Eddie’s mouth that he’s certain he’s never made before.

“Holy fuck,” Richie breathes.

“Tell me about it,” Eddie gasps out. He squeezes his eyes closed and tries to slow his breathing. “God. Holy shit. If you do that, I’m not gonna last long.”

“Does it look like I’m running a marathon here?” Richie asks. “This is a hundred meter sprint. Maybe two-hundred meter, if you don’t fuck me any faster.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. He stills his hips, knowing that as much as it puts him on edge and makes heat coil in his belly, it drives Richie wilder. “Really, with the track and field metaphors? While my dick is literally inside of you?”

“I’m sorry, do you want me to wax poetic about your penis?” 

“If that will help you,” Eddie says innocently, then he shifts his hips until he’s almost pulled out of Richie entirely. Richie throws his head back against Eddie’s pillow and whines. “Something wrong?”

Richie shakes his head. “You’re a tease. You’re a goddamn tease. I never could have predicted this.”

Eddie grins, and without any warning, rocks his hips forward until he’s bottomed out in Richie once again. It’s worth it alone for the long, drawn out groan that Richie lets out. And Eddie’s never considered himself one for wanting a loud partner in bed, but it’s different with Richie. It makes him feel good hearing Richie feeling good. It makes it better, the same way that Richie clenching around him makes it better, the same way that Richie’s hand reaching for Eddie’s makes it better. It’s  _ Richie. _

There’s nothing holding him back anymore, so he fucks into the tight heat of Richie’s body. Richie’s hand around Eddie’s tightens, and from his mouth falls a litany of, “Yes—yes, just. Eddie,  _ Eddie,  _ fuck.”

“Yeah, Tex,” Eddie says. He presses a kiss to the inside of Richie’s ankle, his leg still propped over Eddie’s shoulder. Richie cries out again. “I know. You’re doin’ so good, baby.”

It’s the pet name that falls so easily from his mouth, like it’s something he’s said a thousand times, that makes Eddie’s hips stutter. And it’s his hips stuttering, interrupting the pace that Eddie had set, that has Richie cry out something that might be a warning. Eddie realizes Richie is close, chasing his own orgasm without even being touched, and the thought of it makes Eddie whimper out loud. He’s half tempted to see if he can get Richie to come like this, untouched between them. He wonders what that would look like. But Eddie’s so close to his own orgasm now, even after what can’t have been more than a few minutes, and the hopeless, desperately romantic part of Eddie wants them to finish together.

So he lets go of the hand that’s holding Richie’s in favor of wrapping his fingers around Richie’s dick and pumping him, lining up the strokes of his hand with the thrusts of his hips until Richie is writhing frantically underneath him.

“Eddie,” Richie chokes out. Eddie watches a single tear fall from Richie’s eyes and wishes he could wipe it away. “Eddie, I’m. Eds—”

“I know,” Eddie soothes. Heat pools in his gut with every thrust. “You’re almost there, Tex, come on. Come for me.”

“Eddie,” Richie sobs, and his hand smacks the mattress with a reverberating sound before he comes in spurts, over Eddie’s hand and his chest. His body trembles as Eddie continues to fuck into him, slowly his pace now and drawing out every last second of Richie’s orgasm. He’s a shaking mess by the time he’s done, softening in Eddie’s hand.

Eddie’s right on the edge himself, practically overstimulated from watching Richie fall apart while being buried inside of him. It only takes a few more thrusts and a well-timed clench on Richie’s part for Eddie to choke out his own warning, “Richie, I’m—” before he’s coming so hard that his vision stars out and he has to grip Richie’s calf, still poised on his shoulder, to steady himself.

It takes him a minute to come back down to his body, riding the post-orgasm high as he tries to make sense of which limb belongs where and how to move them, but by the time his vision clears, Richie has dropped his leg off of Eddie’s shoulder and has pushed himself up on both of his arms. Both of their chests are heaving. Sweaty curls fall onto Richie’s forehead again, and Eddie doesn’t think before reaching forward and brushing the hair back again.

Richie smiles at him softly, almost unaware of it. Eddie pulls himself out and rolls the condom off, tying it up before dropping it into the garbage can by his bed. He reaches into his bedside table again and pulls out wipes.

“I can do that,” Richie protests, but Eddie shushes him before pulling a wipe out and setting to work cleaning Richie up. Richie swallows so loud that Eddie can hear it. Eddie doesn’t look up from what he’s doing.

By the time he’s done, he can feel exhaustion deep in his bones, so after he throws the wipes away and stands to turn off the light, he crawls into the space next to Richie and collapses on his chest, freshly cleaned a little bit sticky from the wet wipes that haven't dried yet. Richie grunts at the weight dropping onto him. His hand tentatively twines around Eddie, and his fingers trace uncertain patterns on Eddie’s shoulder blade.

“We’re cuddling now?” Richie asks. His voice is careful.

“You’re really gonna ask about what we’re doing now after I just had my dick inside you?” Eddie asks. It comes out a little bit mumbly with the way his face is squished into Richie’s chest. “Think that the list of things we’re doing now has changed dramatically in the last thirty minutes.”

Richie huffs out a small laugh. “Didn’t peg you as a cuddler, that’s all.”

“Richie,” Eddie hums. The exhaustion of the day is starting to catch up with him, worn out from rehearsal and a concert and emotional highs and, of course, what could classify as the best sex of his life.

“Yeah, Juilliard.”

Eddie shifts and curls himself better around Richie. His eyes flutter closed. “Shut up. Just relax for a minute.”

“Don’t fall asleep,” Richie whispers.

“I won’t,” Eddie lies, but he’s already drifting. Richie’s hand keeps tracing a pattern on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie starts to doze off, feeling content, and the last coherent thought he has before falling asleep is wondering whether or not he imagines the kiss Richie presses to the top of his head.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [here](https://twitter.com/SPACERICHlE) and my co-smau-author scams [here](https://twitter.com/chernobrough) if you want to come say hello!!


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